Am I good for you now?

I always believed we were artists/poets/romanticists...I know you believed that, too. But these days I don't see that in you. I remember you saying the longing may disappear with me becoming good - what was once unattainable is now going nowhere. Suddenly the chase is over and you have me now. I search desperately in your eyes to see if there is still passion; instead I sense a quiet disinterest masked by the tiredness of everyday. I'm quite sure I've managed to extinguish the fire inside you with years of bad behavior. I realize part of you has died, but which part? I fear your introspective, sensitive, inspired self has died with the frenzied, irresponsible hellion I used to be. Although I love you very much, I miss the way you used to be...I mournfully regret not embracing your thoughts and poetry. How did I overlook that? Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm overlooking something else that is invaluable in you presently. Maybe it was that we were both loose cannons in the past, and now we can both be good...maybe now we can write poetry about one another.